The Real Dad's Army (C4)

The Real Rain Man: Extraordinary People (five)

NAZI forces were gathering to invade England but our boys were ready to repel them - with potatoes.

The Real Dad's Army told how, in spring, the government realised that vast expanses of the coast were unguarded. The Home Guard was formed, with 1.5 million men volunteering in six weeks. Unfortunately, this was ten times more than expected and there weren't enough weapons to go round.

Men drilled with broomsticks instead of rifles and potatoes instead of hand grenades. "You can laugh at it now, throwing potatoes, but it was serious at the time," recalled one member of Dad's Army.

The TV series wasn't that far of the mark. With only one rifle for every six men, volunteers were issued with pikes for guard duty - which caused TV's Private Jones to say, quite rightly, "they don't like it up 'em".

Eccentric protypes and army rejects were foisted off on the Home Guard, including mortars described by one Home Guardsman as more dangerous to the operator than the enemy. Another admitted that the situation would have meant only one thing if the Germans had invaded then, "They'd have slaughtered the lot of us".

There was a secret weapon - women. One man revealed that he was stopped by women who'd mistaken him for a German parachutist. They threatened him with broomsticks and rolling pins, pushing him off his bike.

It's easy now to laugh at the amateurishness of the early days of the Home Guard, but this programme brought home the fact that the threat of Hitler successfully invading this country was all too real.

Kim Peek can't shave or dress himself, or prepare himself a meal. But ask him anything about US postal codes, and he'll know the answer.

The Real Rain Man spent time with the world's most famous savant. Once upon a time people would've called him an "idiot savant" but doctors wisely dropped the idiot after discovering that such people are far from stupid.

Kim is both disabled and brilliant. He was diagnosed as mentally retarded at birth but has developed a memory without equal - "a living Google" as someone said.

He was the inspiration for the film Rain Man. Dustin Hoffman, who played him, told his father Fran to "share him with the world". He's done just that, taking Kim out to meet the public and share his fantastic knowledge.

The documentary showed him in action - a remarkable sight as he reeled off facts and figures without a moment's hesitation - and being tested by neuroscientists keen to understand why his brain works in the way it does.

There was an underlyng sadness. His father never leaves his side, catering for all his needs. "My dad and I share the same shadow," says Kim touchingly.

Since Rain Man 18 years ago, Kim has blossomed into a social being with his father's help. But Fran is approaching 80. Kim may have all the knowledge in the world but that won't help him when his father can no longer attend to his every need.

Hedda Gabler,

Quarry Theatre, West Yorkshire Playhouse

WHEN it came to happiness, they forgot Hedda Gabler. Was there ever such an unhappy, discontented women, whose resentment at the world and its ways caused her to behave so poisonously?

In Mike Poulton's new adaptation and Gillian Kearney's scary performance, Hedda is not a nice woman. Manipulative, unreasonable, vain, unfulfilled and rotten to the servants too.

Trapped in a marriage to the devoted but infuriatingly ineffective Jorgen Tesman, she schemes to keep men more attractive than her husband at her beck and call. Both Judge Brack and Ejiert Lovborg fall under her spell.

Poulton's script enjoys malicious dark humour as well as deeply tragic moments, while director Matthew Lloyd's staging moves along at a fair lick. Both serve to dispel the notion that Ibsen has to be slow and boring. This short, sharp shock of a production never falls into either of those categories.

Kearney may look like a slip of a girl but there's no doubting the steely resolve of this Hedda to live life on her terms, or not at all. She's a force to be reckoned with, whether pacing the room like a trapped animal, burning a precious manuscript or trying to outmanoeuvre Jasper Britton's smooth-talking Judge Brack.

Tom Smith's idiot husband, blinded by love to his wife's indiscretions, and Daniel Weyman's eager would-be lover Ejlert Lovborg prove putty in her hands.

Until March 11. Tickets 0113 213 7700.

Steve Pratt